


lily's potter

by alpenglow



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Cursed Child - Thorne & Rowling
Genre: Age Difference, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Cross-Generation Relationship, Discussion of Abortion, F/M, Family Bonding, Female Friendship, HP Next Gen Fest 2020, Happy Ending, Unplanned Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-09
Updated: 2020-11-09
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:07:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27078559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alpenglow/pseuds/alpenglow
Summary: "But what if I keep it? What’s the contingency plan there?”She took a seat next to Lily. She spoke slowly, as if she was thinking about it for the first time, too. “Well, I mean, you keep your baby. You raise it. You love it. It goes on to do wonderful things because it’s a Potter.”Lily snorted. “It’s a Potter?”“Why not? I mean it’s just as much you as whoever is the father. Why shouldn’t it be a Potter first?”
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Lily Luna Potter, Lily Luna Potter/Lysander Scamander
Comments: 3
Kudos: 20
Collections: Next Gen Fest 2020





	lily's potter

**Author's Note:**

> I had so much fun experimenting with this story idea. I had to stop myself from writing a full novel-length version!! As always, I have to thank my beta and cherished friend, M! Thank you for your endless patience regarding my bizarre punctuation choices <3 <3

Voices echoed outside the loo. Lily stood with both hands on the counter, knuckles white under the strain. The stick beside her hand wasn’t changing color like it was supposed to on the damn box, and she thought she might throw up. She wasn’t sure if that was the nerves or…

Merlin, she couldn’t even think about it.

She was sweating. She could see it in her reflection in the mirror above the counter. Alabaster skin gone deadly pale, a cold sheen of sweat on her forehead.

Someone hammered on the door. “Lily!” It was Roxanne. “Hurry up, I’ve broken the seal and now I’ve got to piss like a mother—”

“Language,” hissed another voice next to her. Rose. “Victoire’s kid is  _ right there _ .”

“Like a mother,” amended Roxie.

Lily really might hurl. 

“Just a second!” she called, hoping her voice sounded even. “Just changing my tampon!”

“Come on, Lily, just let me in, I have to piss!”

“Roxie, there are other toilets in this house.” A third voice, light with laughter, joined the scene outside the door. This one was Dominique’s. “Use the one downstairs.”

Lily buried her head in her hands. Were they forming an audience outside? 

She’d bought this test from a Boots in London before she came to Dominique’s house. 

Dom held a girl-cousin sleepover for her birthday every year— some nostalgia trip to remind them of their childhoods. Lily usually loved them; it was like having a room full of the older sisters she never had, but today she was wishing she’d just opted out. 

When her period had been late, she didn’t think much of it. Those things happened, didn’t they? It wasn’t like she could be  _ pregnant.  _ She’d been taking the potion every month like clockwork since she turned fifteen. 

But then a week passed. And then another. And Lily was beginning to feel exhausted, and her breasts ached for no good reason. It could be that it was her period, fashionably and painfully late… But what if it  _ wasn’t _ ? Victoire had complained endlessly about achey boobs when she was pregnant.

And this damned muggle test said it took three minutes to predict a result, but Lily was almost positive that she’d been here for ten years waiting for the pink lines to appear on the test. 

She stepped back from the counter, flushing the toilet. She washed her hands slowly, watching the reflection of the stick in the mirror. And after she’d slowly towel dried her hands, she looked again. 

Two pink lines. 

Lily pocketed the test. It was a good job she’d worn such an oversized sweatshirt — the new, trendy kind with a kangaroo pouch instead of one big loose on in the front. There was no risk of the test falling out. She could just tuck it behind her smartphone to hide the outline in the pocket. Nobody would have to know. 

Outside, Dominique and Rose were conferring in whispers, leaning against the wall. Victoire’s little girl, Elisabet, looked up as if she were deeply involved in the conversation as well, sucking her thumb.

With another flash of panic, Lily tried to turn away to head downstairs with the rest of the party abruptly, but her feet felt slow. Like she was walking towards the shore, legs dragging in the water.

She made it downstairs, where the cousins congregated on the couches in the sitting room, wine in hand. Victoire sat with Lucy and Molly, heads thrown back in laughter. Roxanne emerged from the bathroom, flashing Lily a grin before she went back upstairs. 

Lily stared at the kitchen, almost unseeing, but she couldn’t escape what was on her mind. Especially not with Elisabet’s drawings all over Dominique’s fridge. Lily walked towards them, not entirely of her own accord. Teddy had written at the top of the drawing:  _ For Auntie Dom.  _ And underneath, Elisabet had written her own name. Just Bet with a backwards B. 

Another wave of nausea threatened to knock Lily over. 

“Lily?” Rose’s nervous voice appeared behind her. “Are you alright? You look awful.”

Lily swallowed hard. “I just need some air.”

“Here, let’s go to the front steps.”

And that’s where Lily ended up, Rose’s guiding arms helping her to sit down. The cool breeze did enough to cut through the tingling heat coursing through her. Her nausea disappeared with one more deep breath, but another gut-clenching sensation took its place.

“What’s going on?” 

A sob was beginning to well up in Lily’s chest. “I--”

Rose made that tight scrunched face she did when she was trying very hard to be understanding. “Lily, you can tell me.”

The sob that had been building in her seemed to disappear on her exhale. When she spoke, it was a dull, detached sound. “I’m... pregnant.” 

_ Pregnant _ . She fumbled for the test in her kangaroo pocket.

“Oh.”

Rose sat for a moment, looking intently at the two pink lines. Meanwhile, Lily was wishing the sobs would come back. She wanted something, some external marker of what was running through her mind. To scream, to cry, to feel anything more than the low, throbbing panic lingering in her guts. 

_ Nineteen _ and recently  _ very _ single and  _ pregnant _ . 

She spared a glance at her cousin, whose face was tight in thought. Knowing Rose, she was finding the most practical, formulaic solution for all of this.

Perhaps not the best confidante. No, definitely not the best confidante. Lily hardly even saw her except for at forced-fun family functions and from the stands at her Quidditch games. She didn’t know Lily, not really.

Lily appreciated her cousin’s tense-browed attempts at sympathy, but how could she ever really understand?

And Merlin, the scandal this would cause. Lily buried her head in her hands, thinking about the two damning headlines that would come. Because they would -- it was an inevitability now. It was either  _ Lily Potter pregnant at 19!  _ or  _ Lily Potter spotted leaving Knockturn Alley clinic! _

She could always try and brew the potion herself, she supposed. She had always been good at potions. That would be the best way to go about it if she had to do it herself. She’d heard the horror stories from Victoire about desperate women and their botched abortions… A wand up the fanny and an  _ Evanesco _ . 

The thought of it made Lily’s stomach lurch. 

She felt a hand on her knee and looked down at it, suddenly feeling so detached from the rest of her body. She was only a womb and a brain, suspended in air and burning hot. But here was Rose’s hand on her knee, with the same smudged nail polish Lily had on from before. Freckles splayed across knuckles in familiar configurations. 

She felt the first real breath hit her lungs, and the burning in her body began to subside. 

“Look,” said Rose. The scrunched face was long gone. It had been replaced by something firm and sure. “I’m here. Whatever you want to do. Whoever you want to tell. I’m here.”

__

The next week at work, Lily had been quietly filing documents when Rose walked straight into her office. Immediately, Lily froze. 

It was one thing for the Minister’s daughter to walk into the Beings Division at the Ministry. She would be welcome, and not out of place — Hermione, of course, was one of the first Ministers to make magical creatures a priority of her administration. 

It was another thing entirely for Rose Granger-Weasley, Puddlemere’s first female Keeper, to walk into a crowded Ministry office. That was an entirely different kind of fame, one that Rose had no hope of tamping down with every room she walked into. Immediately, whispers broke out. Lily groaned, shoving her face into her hands. 

This is what she got for taking a Ministry job. All of this was divine retribution for wasting her talents when she ought to have been frolicking about South America with the Scamanders like she’d always wanted. 

As if that was possible now, anyway, with Baby hanging around. 

Rose came up to Lily’s desk as if she was entirely unaware of the hundred beady eyes that followed her there. 

“Hi, Rose,” said Lily flatly. 

“I brought that book you asked for from Mum’s library,” said Rose, undeterred.

Lily did her best not to let out a strangled, exasperated sound. “I don’t recall.”

“The one on centaur tribes?” 

Rose looked at Lily like  _ she _ was the mental one. Before Lily had the option to hiss out a rebuttal, the door to the Beings division opened again. Rose leaned over her desk and shoved the book into a drawer. 

“Rose!”

“ _ Open _ it, you stubborn prick,” she hissed. “Wait until you get home tonight.”

Lily’s mouth opened and closed a few times, but she was unable to formulate another response before another figure joined them at her desk. Draco Malfoy looked between the two redheads with a quirk of amusement in his face. 

“You two look… conspiratorial.”

Rose laughed too loudly. “Who, us? Never. I save my conspiring for Scorpius and Albus, actually.”

Lily closed her eyes painfully, and asked herself, not for the first time, why she didn’t tell Hugo about this instead. He was supposed to be her best friend, after all. It had always been them and the Scamander boys against the world. 

Well. Maybe just her and Hugo these days.

Draco put his hand on the edge of Lily’s desk. When she opened her eyes, she found herself staring right at his short-trimmed nails and the length of his fingers. Her mouth went dry. 

“I brought a message from the Artifacts Department. We think there’s another pixie colony hiding Dark Artifacts we haven’t found yet.”

A message appeared between his fingers, dangling over her desk. She extracted the paper, careful not to touch his hand with her bare skin. 

_ I want to see you. Come to the Manor at eight _ . 

She shoved the message into the drawer with Rose’s book. Her voice scraped against her throat as she offered her reply. “Yeah. I’ll keep an eye out.”

  
  


She hauled Rose out of her office after that, dragging her far from the Ministry to a Muggle cafe not far from the visitor’s entrance. She had the book under her arm when she left, and when the two of them were alone at a table in the back of the cafe, cappuccinos in hand, she braved its pages. At first, it really did look like a book on centaur tribes, but after a moment, the words began to shift. 

_ Pregnancy and You: Potions, Charms, and Everything You Need to Know _

Lily lifted her head. “What’s this rubbish?”

“It’s not  _ rubbish _ . I charmed it myself. I wrote down everything you need to take into consideration about—” she lowered her voice to a whisper “—you know. Considering who you are and everything.”

“You’ve had a bludger too many to the head.”

“Have not. And you should be _ thankful,  _ Lily. Statistically, many people struggle to understand their options—”

“Is this the audiobook version you're spouting now?”

Rose scowled. “You can’t just joke this away. This is real.”

“I wasn’t planning on it,” hissed Lily.

Rose shot her a knowing look. “Draco. Is he the…?”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Look, I know I’m no expert in romance or — well, people in general—”

Lily snorted. 

Rose shot her a stern look before continuing. “ _ But _ , I’m not thick, either. What did the note really say?”

“I don’t know who the father is. And honestly, what does it matter? I don’t even know if I’m even keeping the thing.”

Rose frowned. “On the subject…” She flipped open the book again, to a page titled  _ Elective Abortions _ . “Read it, please? Abortions are complicated magic, and I don’t want you getting any stupid ideas about trying to do it yourself. Plenty of witches have died that way.”

“Merlin, Rose, you’re such a  _ downer _ .” Lily snatched the book back. 

“There’s a magical clinic in Manchester. They’re much more discreet than the one in Knockturn Alley.”

Lily knit her brows. “How do you know about all this stuff?”

“I just— I’ve researched it. For you, I mean. It’s a hell of a thing to have brought us together after all these years, but I’m here now. Look into it, okay? I can get us a portkey straight there. Off the books.”

“Aren’t those illegal?”

Rose bit her lip. “There are special circumstances. Just read the book, Lily. I’ve got to get to practice.”

___

Lily didn’t open the book when she got home. When she got back to her tiny flat in Diagon Alley, she went straight into the shower. Hot water made her hair stick to the curve at the small of her spine, weighing it down with a delightful displeasure. She liked the way her water-heavy hair pulled at her head, forcing her head back. The shower rained water onto her forehead, trickling small rivulets down her face. 

She refused to look at her stomach. It was still too early to show, but she was getting paranoid that in every reflective surface her bump was growing more obvious. Instead, she kept her eyes shut when she traced a hand across the bottom of her abdomen. 

She’d always thought of her uterus as this mysterious organ, not quite attached to her. Like it existed in some secret pocket of herself where it would be accessed only in her 30s, when her career was stable, and she had met the love of her life. Now, with her palm above it, she was forced to consider that it might be far more real than she’d ever anticipated. 

At the very least, six weeks realer than she'd ever anticipated. 

She pulled her hand away, exhaling sharply to calm herself, and wrenched her heavy hair off her back. When she got out of the shower, she stared at her toweled reflection in the glass. 

“You’ll tell him.” She told herself firmly. “He’ll know what to do.”

___

Going to Malfoy Manor wasn’t a fancy affair for Lily. She often went in sweatpants, no bra or makeup, hair back in a sloppy ponytail. It didn’t really matter what she was wearing when she arrived; they didn’t exactly spend too much time in their clothes anyway. Really, she was providing him with fewer obstacles when she went in sweatpants.

It was a pleasant dichotomy in her mind. A poorly dressed Potter in the halls of the prestigious Malfoy Manor. Generations of purebloods must have been rolling in their graves at the thought of it. 

When she came out of his Floo, he was in the living room, reading the  _ Prophet _ in his dressing gown. He had his glasses on, a little crooked from the time she had accidentally sat on them. She smiled fondly. 

He lowered the paper, hastily removing his glasses. “I didn’t realize you were coming tonight. I would have made dinner.”

“I got your message, didn’t I?”

He gave her a stern look. “Yes, but you did not RSVP, Potter.”

She crossed the room laughing. She crawled onto his lap, straddling his hips. “I thought it was safe to assume that you didn’t have any plans.”

“And what if I did?” he asked, maintaining his stern front, but his eyes twinkled in a way that made Lily’s heart melt. “What if you had walked into a Ministry meeting?”

“Hmmm,” she considered. “What if? I could always say I got the wrong address. Or maybe I was coming to confess my undying love for you. That’d be a great way to make your colleagues uncomfortable.”

The stoic face broke when he burst into laughter. “Merlin, it’d be all over the  _ Prophet _ .”

She ran her thumb across his cheekbone, then all the way down to his pointed chin. “Good thing it isn’t, though.”

All thoughts of confessing her predicament to him flew out the window when he sealed their affection with a kiss. 

Sometimes, when they slept together, he whispered someone else’s name. Whimpers of “Astoria” in between thrusts. It broke her heart, but not for herself. For him. 

It never hurt her feelings. Because, on more than one occasion, Lily’s mind had drifted away too. To a different head of blonde hair, to different shoulder blades hovering above hers.

There was no discomfort between her and Draco. No embarrassment, no shame. Only his hands on her body; her legs wrapped around his waist. Pure reprieve in each other’s touch.

In his bed, she turned to face him. Moonlight streamed through his windows, bathing him in cool light. It was fitting for him, emphasizing the aristocratic contours of his face, making his hair glow like a moonbeam against the gray pillowcases.

“You okay?” he asked quietly. “It’s not like you not to write ahead of time.”

She knit her brows. “Did you actually mind that? Because I won’t do it again if you did—”

“It’s not that. You just seem… Off. I don’t know. What was Rose doing in your office today?”

Lily let out an exasperated noise that she did not have to fake. “Nothing important. She was just giving me a book about centaur tribes.”

He lifted a brow. “Is that a particular interest of yours?”

She smiled. “Yes. They’re master astronomers, and you know how I feel about astronomy.”

He rolled his eyes. “I  _ do _ . If you tell me what my Saturn rising Horcrux is again, I swear—”

“Horoscope,” corrected Lily with a small laugh. “And that’s  _ astrology _ .”

He made a dismissive noise. “Same thing.”

“Sure. Just like how hexes and curses are the same thing.”

He snorted. “Okay, fine. What’s your favorite constellation then?”

She scooted towards him on the bed, so that he could grab hold of her, pulling her flush against him. 

“Scorpius.”

He made a confused face. "What?'

"Joking, obviously.” She relished the scrunch of his nose, vaguely miffed. “It's Draco."

She liked the feeling of their naked chests together even more, each of their hearts beating against the other. 

He groaned. “I don’t know why I keep you around.” 

___

It was routine at this point, the way Draco woke her up with breakfast in bed. At first, it had been odd — Lily had never slept with a guy who made her breakfast the next day, much less in bed — but Draco had acted like it was nothing. In fact, when she finally asked him about it, months later, he looked at her like she’d grown three heads. “What else do you expect me to do, Potter? Kick you to the curb?”

They’d settled into that old routine flawlessly. He woke her up with porridge and fresh berries, sliding into bed next to her with his own food. She let out a sleepy, happy noise, squirming underneath the tray to stretch her legs. 

“It’s been a while,” said Draco, biting into a strawberry. “I thought you might have wanted to call it off.”

Lily shrugged. “So did I.”

Most of the time, Lily spent at least one night a week here. She had a drawer in the bedside table on her side of the bed. Because it was  _ her _ side of the bed. Draco didn’t see anyone else; she knew that much for a fact. 

Scorpius said he worried for his father sometimes, all alone in the big Manor, surrounded by memories of a long dead wife he had never forgotten. And all of that was true, except one crucial detail. Draco wasn’t really alone. 

This wasn’t the room he shared with Astoria. He didn’t sleep there anymore, but it remained perfectly intact. He’d shown Lily once. Just once, and they never brought it up again.

This room, here, was theirs. His and Lily’s. There was even a picture of them on his nightstand from Scorpius’s wedding. She wore a long, green dress, and Draco wore black robes. Nobody had noticed the way his tie matched her dress.

He lifted a brow. “Care to elaborate?”

It had been just over a month of radio silence from Lily’s end. Things had just been… messy. 

“Not really,” she frowned. The echo of a slamming door reverberated in her mind. “If that’s okay.”

“Of course. Just as long as you do tell me when you want to call it off.” He let his gaze linger on her for a moment. “Do you like the porridge?”

She really thought she wouldn’t come back to him. There wouldn’t have been any hard feelings if she didn’t. Neither of them had any delusions about making this into something it wasn’t. But there was something about his slender fingers hanging over her desk that reminded her of everything she’d been missing. And she really had missed it — missed  _ him _ . 

She nodded, smiling. “You’re a great cook.”

He sniffed. “All wizards of substance ought to be taught cooking, ballroom dancing, Latin, and French.”

She threw her head back in a laugh. “And all wizards of substance  _ also _ ought to know how to use a telephone, but here we are.”

Two small patches of pink appeared on the apples of his cheeks. “That was  _ one time _ , Potter.”

“You tried to hex the pizza man through the phone!”

He scowled. “He deserved it.”

She grabbed his hand, lying between them in the sheets, and pressed a kiss to the back of it. Silence lapsed between them while they ate, fingers still knit in the middle of the bed. It was a good thing she was left handed, she thought. For moments like these.

When she took a sip of her tea, it occurred to her that this moment — blissful and serene though it might have been — was her chance. Her perfect opportunity to tell him. It was only two words, surely it couldn’t be that hard.

She looked at his profile. Square glasses on his face as he read the morning paper on the tray next to his breakfast, absently eating his food. 

He would know what to do. He was already a father. He’d be able to help her make the right choice.

“Draco…”

He looked up, brows lifted above his frames. “Yes, love?”

Then again, there was always the problem that the baby might not be his. That would probably upset him more than the idea that she might be pregnant at all. 

She swallowed hard. “Just… I’m glad I didn’t call it off.”

He shot her one of those rare, soft smiles. The ones that made all the hardness of his facial structure and the creases of time disappear right off his face until he was nothing but bright eyes and a soft smile. All for her. 

“Me too.”

___

It was the morning that Lily had her first real bout of morning sickness that she decided to open the book. To Rose’s credit, it looked thorough. There was more information here than Lily ever thought she’d need, but there was only one thing on her mind these days. She flipped to the page she and Rose had looked at in the cafe.  _ Elective Abortions _ . 

_ Magical abortions are a completely safe (albeit complicated) procedure. They ought to be performed by trained technicians or Healers exclusively.  _

_ There are several ways to go about terminating your pregnancy, but the method most appropriate for you should be determined by a professional. The most common method is the potion. The morning after potion is a weaker version of the kind of brew you’d take in a clinic. Its maximum effectiveness happens within the first 10 weeks of pregnancy. Similarly, there is a charm (whose incantation I will  _ not _ be writing down) that works well in the first 8 weeks, if you’re lucky enough to catch it that early.  _

_ Towards the end of the first trimester, the potion may still be administered, but it’s effectiveness decreases, and it will have to be taken in multiple doses. Electing to abort in the second trimester is extremely rare— _

Lily slammed the book shut, breathing deeply. When she stood to put on the kettle  _ — _ feeling in desperate need of a cup of ginger tea to endure this — her legs were unsteady underneath her. 

She had no moral quandary with abortion. It was all perfectly clear in her mind: everyone had every right to do what they wanted with their bodies. The issue was that Lily didn’t  _ know _ what she wanted.

Motherhood had always seemed like a distant future for her. Something she would likely pursue, but something she couldn’t really envision for herself without someone guiding her hand. 

And Merlin, it was impractical now to have a child. She wasn’t even twenty, and she had so many daydreams to follow. She had wanted to go travel with Hugo, get unforgivably drunk, and make terrible choices. She wanted to come back with a tattoo up her arm, just to see her grandmother’s reaction. And she’d promised Luna they’d go to Sweden together, just the two of them. 

But when she’d read that passage Rose had so diligently written, she felt an uneasiness settle into her stomach that had nothing to do with the morning sickness. It wasn’t wrong to get an abortion, Lily knew that for sure. But maybe it wasn’t right for  _ her _ . 

The second the thought crossed her mind, she let out an incredulous laugh. 

“What other choice do you have?” She asked her distorted reflection in the kettle. 

No money. A one bedroom flat. No hope of knowing who the father was. The only thing she did have, it seemed, was Baby. 

___

She kept dreaming of Lysander.

In situations real and imagined. In flashbacks that had her waking up with a sob in her throat; strange dreams that made her head hurt in the morning. The Lysander dreams were always vivid in a disorienting way, even after she woke up. But the strange ones were better than the real ones.

She kept seeing the night he took her to the orchestra on repeat. Night after night, no matter who's bed she was sleeping in. In Draco's bed, on Hugo's couch, in her own flat — everywhere. 

It was strange to dream a memory. It felt, more often than not, like looking through a distorted pensieve. She knew what was coming, and she could not stop it or change it. Not that she would even know how if she was reliving the moment now.

It had almost seemed out of character for him to take her to something like an orchestra; Lysander, who was the top of their Care N.E.W.T. Who never matched his socks, and who had never seen a comb in his life, probably. And it wasn't like it was any particular interest of hers. Not even Draco's best efforts had made her cultivate a profound appreciation for things like that. But Lysander almost always had a plan, and she was willing to trust it. 

She'd put on her best dress for him, and he knew better than to tell her she was beautiful. He held tight to her waist whenever he could, staking his claim wordlessly: the way Lysander did best. In the theatre, he'd been entranced by the movement of the bows against the instruments, but Lily only looked at him. 

The day before, she had ended it with Draco. Staring at Lysander's profile, she had wondered why she hadn't done it sooner. He looked at her as if to grab her attention, but he stopped when he saw she was already staring at him. 

His fringe was in his eyes and, instinctually, she brought up her hand to push it aside. He caught her by the wrist. 

Her heart was hammering-- she was sure he could feel her pulse underneath his hand. The sensation was electric, humming alongside the music everywhere his hands reached. 

There were things she'd wanted to say, but she could not — there was no speaking in the theatre.  _ That _ was why he brought her here, she'd realized. To remove the words they would stumble over —no snark, no jokes. To confront what they'd been avoiding for so long.

The sensation was so intense that it was almost overwhelming. Her heart in her chest, his palm now against hers, the heat of his eyes in the dark. And the music that underscored it all —plenty emotional on its own, but  _ then? _ There? 

She had such a heavy desire to say something. Just his name, just half of it; two syllables. Ander. His eyes flicked down to her lips, and she almost whimpered. 

_ Do it _ , she'd wanted to say. Better yet, she'd wanted to do it herself. 

His hand left her grasp, sliding against the back of her head, knotting his fingers into her hair. He'd tugged just lightly enough on her hair to guide her head upwards. She'd swallowed back her gasp. 

The pressure in her chest was too much. "An—" 

She didn't finish before he kissed her.

___

The Granger-Weasley house had always been one of Lily’s favorite places. It was equal parts academia and pure chaos, bookshelves lined with old books and WWW products. The potential for explosion behind every corner. 

And, in her childhood, Hermione would always sneak her cookies, give her a wink, and say, “If your father asks, we’re still sugar-free.”

Lily had loved it. Because there was nothing more exciting than rule-breaking with  _ Auntie Hermione _ , who never did break the rules. 

Even when Lily had outgrown secret, sugary cookies, the Granger-Weasley house presented so much more entertainment. Her and Hugo and an entire Quidditch pitch. A pristine wizard’s chess set in his bedroom that they’d played until the pieces stopped gluing themselves back together. 

And when they’d only just graduated Hogwarts, Lily started sharing her cookies with Hugo instead. He’d call her up after a whole morning of experimentation, offering her a grand array of delicious treats. 

All of that felt so long ago, now. And when Lily showed up for a Potter/Granger-Weasley dinner, she felt a little dampened by the fact that those magical afternoons were so distant now. 

She was the last to arrive— to nobody’s surprise. Hermione opened the door with a familiar expression: a frown that wasn’t really upset. “Well. Some things never do change.”

“You know me, Auntie,” said Lily lightly.

“You couldn’t be on time if you were a wristwatch yourself.” Hermione held the door open so Lily could pass through. “Come on in. We’re all in the sitting room. Can I get you some wine?”

“Ah, no,” said Lily. At Hermione’s surprised face, she fabricated an elaboration. “Watching my calories these days. You wouldn’t  _ believe _ the snacks they put in the Beings Division’s kitchen.”

She didn’t catch Hermione’s reaction, because she’d already pushed into the sitting room. Her father was the first to catch her eye, rising to his feet.

“There she is,” beamed Harry. “Hello, darling.”

He greeted her with a kiss on the forehead. Lily made her rounds, giving everyone a swift kiss on the cheek and a hug. Hugo stiffened under her hug. She tried to shoot him a curious look, but he was staring at the floor.

She took a seat next to Rose, more caught off-guard than she’d anticipated. 

Hermione appeared with a Bubble Juice for her. “I know it’s your favorite.”

Lily took it, slightly surprised. “Oh. Well, thanks.”

When she took a sip, she was shocked to feel the drink having a calming effect on the sloshing in her stomach. She took another small sip, resisting the urge to let out a sigh of relief. 

“Dinner’s almost ready,” said Ron. “Should we head to the dining room?”

They all settled into their chairs. Hugo was quick to take a seat on the far other end of the table from Lily, artfully dodging her glare as he did. She was forced into a seat between her parents, right across from James’s crooked grin. 

“Been a while, sis, how’s work?”

She shrugged. “Dull. Fine. How’s practice?”

“It’d be better if he actually showed up on time,” interjected Rose, frowning. “Considering we all have to run drills when he shows up late.”

James laughed. “Some of us have social lives, Rosie, you should try it sometime.”

Ron dished out chicken to all of them with a wave of his wand. He had a flair for domestic magic that rivaled Gran’s. 

“You’ll never believe what Louis wrote me,” said Albus, changing the subject swiftly. “He said he came by Dominique’s after you lot had your sleepover thing, and he found a pregnancy test box in her bin. But the test wasn’t in there.”

Lily almost choked. She noticed Hermione staring at her, but she refused to meet her eyes. 

“Dom’s pregnant?” asked Ron. “But I thought she was gay?”

Ginny smacked his arm. “Don’t be daft, Ron, she could be bi.”

“Or pan,” said Scorpius thoughtfully.

Rose put on an effortless frown. “I don’t really think it’s any of our business anyway. If she wants to tell us she will. Don’t you think?”

“Don’t know,” shrugged Hugo. “It’s not like communication has really been a strong suit of this family’s. Wouldn’t you say, Lils?”

Lily looked up from her plate to glare at him.  _ Don’t _ , she mouthed, eyes narrowed. He took a sip of water, flashing his eyes at her as if to say: what are you going to do about it?

“It could be Victoire’s,” said Hermione reasonably. “She told me she and Teddy were trying again.”

“Maybe they’ll name the next one after me,” said James. “He lost that bet fair and square, he has to name a kid after me at  _ some _ point.”

Albus interjected. “You’re stupider than we give you credit for if you think that’s actually happening.”

“Albus,” sighed Scorpius. 

“Oi!”

“Boys!” said Ginny, pointing her knife between them. “Will you please stop fighting like children?”

And just like that, the conversation moved on, but Lily was hardly processing it. She was staring at Hugo scowling at his peas, trying to ignore the looks of both the Granger-Weasley women boring into her skull. 

  
  


She dragged Hugo into his bedroom after dinner. “What was  _ that _ about? You are not usually a prick, Hugo, even when I deserve it.”

His scowl deepened. “I caught up with Lysander recently.”

She tried to keep her face straight. “Oh.”

“Yeah.  _ Oh _ .”

Lily sank into Hugo’s bed, still reeling. “What’d he say?”

How long had it been since she heard from him? Four weeks? Five? They used to write every day. The days were blending together now in the monotony. 

“He said a lot of things, Lily, and most of them aren’t my business. Actually, none of them are my business.”

“Right,” said Lily, confused. “And you’re upset because?”

Hugo lowered his voice to a hiss. “Because he told me you’re sleeping with Draco Malfoy!”

Her entire body froze. “He  _ told _ you that?”

“Is it true?”

“I don’t know what you want me to say, Hugo.”

“How long?”

She winced. “Nine months. Give or take. Hugo, you can’t tell anyone.”

Hugo groaned. “Lils. He’s Scorpius’s father!”

“Well,  _ I’m _ not related to him.”

“I’m your best friend.” He sunk onto the bed next to her, looking exhausted. 

“You are,” she confirmed, emphatic like a promise. 

She could see the hurt in his big puppy eyes. 

“You didn’t tell me. Do you have any other secrets you’re keeping from me?”

Lily swallowed. “Yes.”

“Really? Come on, Lily. We’re supposed to be able to tell each other anything!”

“We are!” She didn’t loosen her grip on his hands. “And I know I  _ can _ tell you anything. But some things… Some things have to be just mine, you know?”

“Like Draco Malfoy.”

“Stop saying his name like you don’t know him.”

“Sorry, should I call him whatever you call him? Darling? My pet?”

Lily snorted. “You’re not funny.”

“I am,” grinned Hugo. “I really am.”

She leaned back onto his bed with a roll of her eyes, and Hugo fell back too, staring up at the white ceiling beside her. If she closed her eyes, they could still be in their Hogwarts days. Photos on the wall of the four of them in their robes; Lily looking past all of them to catch a glimpse of Lysander looking at her. Or Hugo and Lily on the bed, listening as Lorcan and Lysander stumbled their way through a game of chess. WWW products strewn across the floor, half-written recipes taped to Hugo’s wall with Spell-O-Tape. 

“Lily… What about Lysander?”

She swallowed hard. Her hand drifted to that stretch of skin at the bottom of her abdomen. “I don’t know.”

__

Rose cornered Lily as she was leaving the Ministry one afternoon. “Have you read the book?”

Lily jumped, hand to her chest. “If you sneak up on me like that, you’re going to scare the baby right out of me.”

Rose flushed. “Sorry. I just— I wanted to know if you’d made a decision yet. Because I need to get the portkey arranged and—”

Lily cut her off. “Your mother knows, doesn’t she?”

“I didn’t tell her!” said Rose. “Really, Lily. I didn’t. I wouldn’t do that to you.”

Lily sighed, rubbing her temple. “Come on, we can’t talk about this here.” She grabbed Rose’s wrist.

“Lily, you’re not supposed to apparate in your—”

They disappeared with a crack. They rematerialized in Lily’s living room, where the book lay face up on her coffee table by the fireplace. 

“—condition,” finished Rose with a frown. 

“Does Hermione know?” asked Lily again. She threw herself into her couch, kicking off her shoes in one swift movement.

“I think so. She was paying an awful lot of attention to you at dinner the other day.”

Lily sighed. “Merlin. It’s only a matter of time before Dad finds out then. Because she’s definitely told Ron—”

“I don’t know. I wouldn’t bet on it,” frowned Rose.

“But if she has? Ron can’t keep a secret from Dad to save his life! And there are just too many questions that come after that.”

Rose bit her cheek. “Have you made a decision yet?”

Lily made a noncommittal grunt. “Not entirely. What happens if I keep it?”

“What do you mean?”

“I  _ mean _ ,” she grabbed the book from the coffee table. “There’s a dozen contingency plans for getting an abortion in here. You even put the name of a clinic in  _ France,  _ Rose, in case I was ’too worried about paparazzi’.”

“I like to be thorough.”

“Clearly. But what if I keep it? What’s the contingency plan there?”

Rose took a seat next to Lily. She spoke slowly, as if she was thinking about it for the first time, too. “Well, I mean, you keep your baby. You raise it. You love it. It goes on to do wonderful things because it’s a Potter.”

Lily snorted. “It’s a Potter?”

“Why not? I mean it’s just as much you as whoever is the father. Why shouldn’t it be a Potter first?”

Well, if Draco  _ was _ the father, calling it a Potter-Malfoy would certainly complicate things. Albus and Scorpius wouldn’t be thrilled someone was taking their thunder. (Albus and Scorpius would not be thrilled to find that Scorpius’s brother was also their nephew.) Lily pulled a face at the very thought.

“I didn’t think it was such a bad idea,” said Rose self-consciously.

“Not that. Just… Nothing. How do I support it? What about my career? My dreams?”

“My mother is the Minister of Magic. Clearly you don’t have to sacrifice your career or your dreams to be a loving mum.”

“But your Dad practically stayed at home your whole childhood.”

“Are you any closer to clearing that whole business up? Who the father is?”

Lily flushed, the hot sting of shame on her face. “It… could be one of two wizards.”

“Right,” said Rose, not flummoxed in the slightest. “Well, how far apart were they?”

Lily blinked. She’d been expecting a lecture. “Er— within the span of a week and a half.”

The last time she slept with Draco before they took that break had been slow and sensual. Part of her had known it was going to be the last time when she arrived. They couldn’t keep doing this. Not because of their ages or their families, but because they’d always had an agreement: when Lily met someone, she was supposed to call it off. 

She came through his Floo wearing little more than her knickers. A silk dressing gown made a spectacle of her limbs, sliding against her skin as it revealed flashes of her silhouette. Draco had been surprised, but he met her eyes with a wolfish grin that made her whole body tremble. 

In his room, he’d wanted to take control, but she wouldn’t let him. She straddled him as she took off the dressing gown, revealing the lingerie she’d picked out just for him. 

“Potter,” he’d growled. She loved it when he called her that. Potter, like she wasn’t the petal-soft Lily Luna everyone expected her to be. Potter, with grit.

She had shut him up with a kiss. She set the pace, holding down his wrists, licking down his neck, and letting out a low murmur of laughter when he panted in her ear. 

And despite her fancy dressing gown and her matching underwear, it hadn’t been a sexy affair. It was painfully emotional, the way it always was with him. But this time even more because she was finally kicking the habit of him.

And she  _ wanted _ to let him go. Because something else was waiting on the horizon for her— something as steady and passionate as the sun.

It hadn’t worked out that way. 

Rose knit her brow. “Well, that’s not much help. Do you know how far along you are?”

“Not really. I haven’t gone to St. Mungo’s or anything.”

Rose shot her a stern look. “Well, I’ll send you my schedule and you can schedule an appointment.”

“Send me your schedule?”

“So I can go with you, obviously. You didn’t think I’d let you go alone, did you?”

___

She met Rose at her flat. Rose was already waiting for her on her couch when she walked in, looking quite comfortable with her feet on Lily's coffee table. She shut the door swiftly behind her. Rose was reading some outlandishly large book, dwarfing her head behind the pages, but she set it down when she heard Lily set down her keys. 

"I'm changing out of these sodding robes," growled Lily. 

She left before Rose could answer, stripping before she even hit her bedroom. She changed swiftly into sweatpants. She felt less constrained immediately, letting out an exhale when she shucked off the skirt she'd been wearing. It had hardly fit her on a good day; an old hand-me-down from Victoire that barely slid over Lily's ass to begin with. She still wasn't showing, but she was bloated and exhausted and, really, every little thing was setting her off. Especially the waistband of her skirt digging into her stomach.

She threw her hair back into a ponytail, calling down the hall to Rose. "Let's go. Will you apparate us?"

"No! You're not supposed to be apparating!" came Rose's high-pitched reply.

"Oh bugger, you're right," mumbled Lily. "I guess we can Floo."

It was a convenient thing that there was a Floo connection right into the maternity ward of St. Mungo's. Rose had found it — of course — and explained to Lily that it was to streamline the hospital check-in process during labor. 

"So you don't have to spend time faffing around at reception," she'd elaborated.

"Brilliant," Lily had replied, unenthused.

She was grateful now to avoid faffing around at reception. St. Mungo's maternity ward had a much more intimate feel than the rest of the hospital. No more than eight witches sat in the waiting area with their companions. They weren't the only pair to come without a father. She spotted a girl about her age, hugely pregnant, with her best friend. They had both their hands on the girl's stomach. Lily saw the girl's stomach wobble as the baby doled out a particularly aggressive kick. 

Lily pulled her stinging eyes away to the small desk at the front of the waiting room. A kind wizard in soft, pink scrubs gave them a smile. "How can I help you?"

"Checking in," she murmured. "Lily Potter."

If the wizard was surprised to hear her name, he didn't let it show. He nodded at his spreadsheet, finding her name on the page below. "Your Healer should be right out."

Rose took a seat first, patting the spot on the bench next to her. "Nervous?"

Lily squirmed in her seat. "No."

Rose's forehead tensed, recognizing the fib, but she didn't say anything. She set her hand on Lily's knee. Staring at the families around her, Lily couldn't help but wonder what would happen if she was here with either of the men who could be the father. 

She could fill in the blanks for Draco the easiest. He would rub her back. Or maybe he'd rest a hand on her thigh, a silent but bold declaration of support. And in the office, he'd cry when he saw Baby on the monitor. 

The rest was harder to imagine. Would he claim the child as his outside of the walls of Lily's apartment? Would they become a couple? She didn't know if she wanted to change what they had. 

And Lysander… She didn’t even know where to start.

"Lily?" called a witch in light blue Healer's robes. 

Lily stood, grateful for an opportunity to shut off that thought before it could gain too much momentum. Rose followed behind, and the Healer led them down a corridor to a room with a bench covered by a crinkly white sheet of paper, and a monitor to its side. 

Rose sat on the chair to the right of the bench, and the Healer turned to the desk opposite it. 

"Hi, my name is Carly. I'll be your Healer today. I just need to get a few measurements, if that's okay?"

"Yeah, of course."

Lily stood while a magical tape measure flicked around her body, measuring her whole height and then looping around her waist, around her hips, around the center of her stomach, and, finally, the length of her torso. When it was done, the tape measure rolled itself up neatly.

Lily was weighed next, then sat back onto the bench. The paper crinkled under her body, impossibly loud in the sterile quiet of the room. Rose didn't take her eyes off Lily once, wide and brown and mildly worried. Lily tried to placate her with a smile.

"Okay! Well, all your measurements are looking normal. Very good, very healthy. Do you have an inclination of how you want to carry on? We have pamphlets if you're not sure what your options are."

Rose perked up, her worried eyes flickering with curiosity. Lily swallowed hard. "I was thinking... I was thinking I'd keep it."

She was half expecting the Healer to have an opinion of some kind — a concerned frown or a nod of approval — but the Healer made no such inclinations. "Okay, sounds good. When was your last period due?"

"Three weeks ago. About that, I think."

"Okay. I'll get a better say of it when I pull up the image, but I'd say you're about seven weeks along. Does that sound right to you?"

"Er, yeah. Sure."

Carly gave her an empathetic smile. "If you could just pull up your shirt a little? And lower your sweatpants just a little. That's perfect. The gel might be a bit cold, but it'll help us get a more accurate reading."

Lily nodded. The gel was cold, but not unpleasantly so. She looked over at Rose, who looked watery-eyed but excited. She rolled her eyes with a smile. "The picture isn't even  _ up _ yet, Rose."

"I know, I just— I don't know." Rose smiled. "It's heartwarming, isn't it?" She stood, approaching the side of the bench. She grabbed Lily's hand, squeezing softly. 

Lily turned to the monitor. The image wobbled as Carly waved her wand above Lily's stomach. She frowned. "It doesn't look like anything."

"You should see Muggle ultrasounds," laughed Carly. "They are even harder to read. Look there—" Carly pointed out a bean-shaped thing in a great black shadow. "That's your baby."

"Lovely."

"Oh, it really  _ is _ Lily," beamed Rose. 

"Here, let me show you something else." Carly flicked her wand again, but the image did not change. Instead, a sloshing but steady noise played out over the speakers. Lily almost bolted upright, she was so shocked. It sounded so warbled and distorted over the speakers, muffled under the gel and Lily's skin and organs, but she heard it. The thrum of a heartbeat. 

"Oh," was all she could manage.

Rose wiped a tear from her cheek. "That's your baby, Lily."

It really was. At once, she was glad she had not come with any of them, because Rose had been right. This was  _ her _ baby. Her little Potter. It mattered less and less that she didn't know the father— she didn’t know how she could ever share Baby anyway.

Carly shut off the heartbeat, and Lily felt a rush of panic run through her for a moment. She caught herself.

Carly handed her a tissue to wipe her stomach off with, and then she started going on about prenatal vitamins and everything she needed to know about her first pregnancy. Phrases like  _ 40 weeks _ and  _ vaginal or caesarean  _ passed through her mind, but she was hardly listening. Rose had started taking notes; Lily was equal parts amused and pleased by her cousin's diligence. 

Her baby. She touched that familiar part of skin at the bottom of her abdomen.  _ Hers _ . 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> This work is part of HP Next Gen Fest 2020. The creator will be revealed at the end of November.


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